Risky Business
by lostcowgirl
Summary: While Matt tries to keep his condemned prisoner from killing him on the road to Hays Kitty faces similar threats from twin brothers bent on owning the Long Branch. Will Matt survive to return to Dodge in time to help Doc, Sam & Chester maker sure Kitty survives as well?
1. Chapter 1 A Chancy Job

Chapter 1 – A Chancy Job

Matt Dillon had survived another season of Texas cattlemen and the killers and spoilers that preyed on the cowboys who drove the herds north while facing every hazard the trail could throw at them. Many were hardly more than boys who, after three month on the trail, were anxious to let off steam upon reaching the railhead in Dodge City. Their hard earned pay burned holes in their pockets. The combination of money and pent up energy made for a wild time leading to lives wasted over petty arguments. Through it all the US Marshal in Dodge worked tirelessly and unselfishly to keep his town whole and prevent as many deaths as possible.

The cow town that had become Matt's home again shrunk down to mostly its permanent residents. There were still a few stragglers left over from the throngs of strangers, but just their presence didn't worry him. Once he finished the paperwork, he could continue to ignore them, unless they caused trouble, and finally relax in the Long Branch with the red-haired half soon to be sole owner.

The season kept Kitty Russell busy as well so they'd precious little quiet time, or for that matter, any time together. Matt had sent his assistant Chester off to enjoy himself by spending the little money he managed to accumulate in his pockets on any given day. The office was quiet. Nobody was there to interrupt him while he finished the latest report for Washington. All he had to do was complete it before someone burst in.

Ten minutes later the big man smiled as he blotted his signature then sealed the report in an envelope. Stuffing the envelope in his inner vest pocket, he buckled on his gun belt, grabbed his hat and left his office, pulling the door shut behind him. Matt's long legs quickly carried him down the boardwalk to the stage depot where Jim Buck was busy securing the last of his passengers belongings for the nine o'clock run to Hays. The road was well-traveled enough that darkness had no effect on the time it took to get to the town to the north.

Matt arrived at the depot as Jim turned around to grab the reins to leave. He handed his friend the envelope, knowing it would be on the eastbound mail train from Hays at about this time tomorrow. Despite the delay, his report would reach the nation's capital sooner than the less direct route out of Dodge. Thus, he hoped to ensure his continued employment for another five years unless death or, short of that, permanent incapacity stopped him from wearing the badge. That symbol, worn over his heart, defined his life even to his risking losing Kitty to any man she found acceptable who could give her a home and family. Still, for the rest of the evening, he hoped, the badge would take second place. Like Doc told him this morning, he needed to take time to be Matt Dillon the man.

He made his way across the few remaining feet of boardwalk to the beckoning batwing doors of the Long Branch Saloon. As was his habit, Matt surveyed the barroom, noting Chester playing poker with three other locals and Kitty carrying a tray of beers to the poker players and a bottle of her best whiskey and glasses to the nearby table where four local businessmen sat celebrating their profits. Pushing his way into the room, his keen eyes spotted trouble brewing. The lawman took over.

"Hold it," he ordered, but was too late to stop the young man from firing his 45 at the man who stood not more than ten feet away.

Luckily no innocent bystander was in the line of fire. The intimidating lawman pushed his way through the milling crowd to the non-descript man lying prone in front of the bar and the cocky, dark-haired young stranger standing over him. The stranger eager to meet this new challenge began to step away, simultaneously drawing the gun he'd just used. However, before he could clear leather Matt closed the gap with one giant step and with his greater reach used his own Peacemaker to knock his would be assailant momentarily unconscious.

"Chester, lock him up," Matt declared handing his assistant the gunman's pistol just as the man began to stir.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon," Chester Goode replied while Matt knelt down to examine the downed man.

During all the excitement Kitty sent her bartender Sam for Doc Adams, allowing the marshal time to question the bystanders before the town doctor arrived to announce what the lawman already knew – the man was murdered. Nary a soul claimed to have seen or heard anything more than Matt. What he did learn while examining the body was the unarmed victim's name, Jerry King. At least that's what the papers in his pocket indicated. Ten minutes later the marshal was back at his office.

"What's keepin' yah from openin' this cell door? Are yah too dumb to know where yah left the key? That deputy of yours sure is."

"Now why would I let you go?" Matt replied, ignoring the insults. "It can't be because you're claiming self defense. In case you didn't notice, Jerry King wasn't armed."

"Who's that?" he snapped before seeing the lawman's expression. "Oh, the man in the saloon," he added, thinking better of his flippant response. "He was crowdin' me. Spilled his drink on my sleeve when his arm bumped mine. I called him on it, once he moved far enough away to draw."

"Too bad for you he moved away to avoid a fight."

"Too bad fer him. One thing in his favor, he didn't worm out of it like you. Hittin' me like you done was downright cowardly. We'll settle this like men soon as you give me my iron back."

"That won't happen. What name should I use to file a murder charge?"

As soon as Kyle Stoneman deigned to provide his name Matt turned his back and strode away, closing the heavy door between the office and cells as he made his way to his desk. Grabbing a pencil, he scribbled a note requesting a circuit judge to preside at the trial. To his surprise a wire from Sheriff Brock Turner informing him his prisoner was wanted down in Meade for robbery and murder was waiting for him in the telegraph office. Matt tore up his original note for the Attorney General's office in Topeka and sent a wire to Turner, informing him Stoneman was locked in the Dodge City jail on a new murder charge. He sent a second message to Topeka asking where the trial on the combined charges would be held.

Two days later Matt, leaving Chester to look after the town, escorted his prisoner to Meade. Although he remained cuffed throughout the 35-mile journey, Stoneman attempted to wrest the marshal's gun from him when they stopped to water the horses and grab a bit of jerky to eat. The wily, restrained man came much too close to succeeding for Matt to feel comfortable until his prisoner was locked in the single cell in the tiny Meade jailhouse.

"In the interest of efficiency the defendant is being tried on the murder and robbery charges stemming from the bank holdup here in Meade and the murder charge that arose from the incident in Dodge City together," the newly appointed Judge Caleb Brooker declared, who had been Matt's lawyer slightly less than a year ago, declared the next morning. "Due to his responsibilities as United States Marshal for Kansas, the main witness for the Dodge City charge is here," the man who'd been Matt's lawyer nearly a year ago continued. "If need be, we'll delay these proceedings a day while secondary witnesses make their way to Meade, but according to the information given me, I don't consider it necessary."

None of the parties involved with the trial, with the exception of Stoneman, thought such a delay would in any way alter the outcome. Hence the lawyers didn't attempt to change the judge's mind. Testimony was given concerning all charges for the jury to deliberate upon. They returned their verdict and sentence was passed before most folks considered it time to head home for supper. Again, in the interest of efficiency, Judge Brooker ruled Marshal Matthew Dillon, as part of his duties as the US Marshal for Kansas, immediately escort the prisoner to Hays for hanging.

Matt, desiring to be rid of his prisoner as quickly as possible, decided on efficiency as well. Not wanting to waste time stopping at home, Matt informed Chester by telegram that he'd be gone at least five more days. Rather than involve the sheriffs in Spearville and Lacrosse, causing more delay, he camped with his prisoner out on the prairie in hopes of shortening the journey by a couple of hours a day. It was risky, but he felt if he succeeded it would be worth it.

It took two full days, even with shaving off some five hours, to make the 110-mile trip to Hays. Each time they stopped to rest or camp, Stoneman made yet another stab at killing the lawman. Matt, despite the chains and rope securing his prisoner, didn't let down his guard whether the stop was short or long. When they were 20 miles from Hays, Stoneman came close to overpowering the tired lawman. Had it not been for the adrenalin rush, Matt wouldn't have broken his prisoner's chokehold when the killer wrapped his cuffed hands around the lawman's neck. Dillon's breath was raspy for the next hour.

Despite his exhaustion and the late hour, Matt decided camping for a second night was too dangerous. Therefore they pushed on, arriving at the Hays jailhouse at dawn. After making sure his prisoner was secured in a cell, the sleep-deprived marshal chose to give Buck a much-deserved rest before catching a few winks for himself. The hanging, which he was required to attend, was set for three that afternoon. Matt awoke in plenty of time to fulfill his duty, but left as soon as the trap door opened to drop Stoneman through the opening and break his neck. However, before leaving he sent a wire to let Kitty, Doc and Chester know he'd be back in Dodge in time for breakfast the day after tomorrow. That is, he'd make it home unless someone bushwhacked him along the way. He'd been away a day shy of a week.


	2. Chapter 2 Sole Owner

Chapter 2 –Sole Owner

Kitty Russell smiled at how far she'd come in the nearly seven years since that rainy November morning back in '66. She glanced around the still full saloon where she'd worked ever since, assessing the customers and thought about what had changed and what remained unchanged. The greatest change was the Long Branch was all hers. Bill and Laura Pence, now that their first child, a girl, was born, left the previous afternoon on the Pueblo stage to begin their new life. Before leaving Bill sold the half of the business she'd purchased from him four years ago back to her. Now every hiring decision was hers, and hers alone. It was no longer just the girls, but also the men hired as dealers and barkeeps.

Kitty's smile faded as quickly as it appeared. Matt Dillon, the reason she'd decided to stay in this ugly town, wasn't around to share her joy – again. He'd left yesterday at dawn to take a prisoner to his trial in Meade before she could celebrate her new status with him. Not only that, she couldn't be sure he'd return. Oh, she wasn't worried he'd quit being a lawman to leave her for another woman. It was he'd be unable to return. It was something both of them knew could happen and a primary reason he refused to marry. Right now that attitude suited her as well. She needed to savor her independence after a lifetime of being controlled by one man or another. Still, she wanted Matt in her life no matter what conditions life and their needs put on the relationship. Maybe his dying on the road would be better than watching him die in front of her.

She didn't brood for long. She should enjoy the quiet for however long it lasted. Kitty knew at any moment strangers could arrive to spoil it all. In a booming town like Dodge City there were always men passing through hoping to make a quick buck or simply raise havoc. Reality being what it is, it was less likely these men would appear once all those rowdy Texas cowboys and the hangers on they attracted were gone until next year. Part of how she made money was getting those seasonal visitors and the drifters to spend time drinking and building their hopes that the next hand or spin of the wheel would double or triple whatever amount they started with upon arriving. Of course such high hopes or even plain meanness often led to violent disagreement.

Again her mood changed as she reflected further on the life she'd built. Like Matt's, her job could be dangerous. It had been true almost from the day she arrived. She faced regular harassment from men expecting her to continuously capitulate to their whims. Sometimes their actions were life threatening. Kitty had only been working for Bill a month when Chester's brother Magnus saved her on Christmas Eve from being killed by crazy Lucifer Jones, whose twisted mind equated her with his dead daughter. A couple years after old man Jones tried to deny her a future life one of her regular tormentors, Hank Groat, attempted to beat her into submission when she strenuously objected to his insults. She fought back with the help of Chester Goode until the law in the guise of Matt Dillon arrived with threats of his own.

Kitty pushed such negative thoughts to the back of her mind. No point in dwelling on the fact that working as a saloon or dancehall girl made being beaten or even dying violently more probable. It was mostly men, but jealous wives, like Mrs. Sabrina Peevy, could be potentially deadly as well. Mrs. Peevy shot at Kitty because John, her husband of 35 years, flirted too ardently during what literally proved to be his last fling. Kitty had to threaten to kill Peevy to get him to back off. He wasn't the first or the last man she had to threaten in that way.

When you come right down to it, Kitty realized, men were always the source of any violence whether or not the woman took action. Two years ago Jacob Leech, another crazed man with a similar obsession, overhead Chester mention to her where Ollie Radford, the man he was after, could be found. Leech forced her at gunpoint to go through the back alleys to where Radford's current wife was in labor. Radford was taking every precaution because his first wife, Leech's daughter, had died during childbirth, but Leech was bent on seeing a decent man dead. Doing what she could to save innocent lives, Kitty led Leech to a vacant building. That time she was lucky, if you could call it that. In the struggle for his gun, Kitty killed him. Back in May the opposite happened. She was shot and nearly died from a stray bullet as two men, Jake Bayloe and his partner in crime, exchanged gunfire over stolen money.

Such instances were an integral part of her continued survival since her life became one of pleasing men, supplemented by her skill at poker. There were always men who got pleasure from beating and tormenting women. Sometimes the women, professionals or wives died. That side of the business had changed for her now that she willingly shared her bed with only one man, but there were always those who tried to ignore her preferences like Pat Swarner. Ironically he was the one beaten to death. Even so 26-year-old Kitty Russell took the responsibility to come to the defense of any girl seriously and did so whenever she could. It didn't matter whether they worked for her or not.

Shaking off her rather pessimistic gloomy thoughts, Kitty's eyes fell on two identical men leaning against the bar surveying the room. They appeared to be in their late 20s or early 30s – old enough to have fought in the War. She sensed they would cause trouble despite looking presentable in their dark trousers, matching jackets, blue waistcoats, white shirts and clean boots. If not for the hairs rising on the back of her neck, Kitty would have accepted them as a couple of brothers or cousins hoping to open a store of some kind. Her anxiety about them was proven correct when Goldie Fergus, her newest girl, ambled over to them to suggest they buy her a drink like she was paid to do.

The petite blond, as her name suggested, was forced to seek work when Doctor Adams was unable to save her husband of six months Jack Fergus. He died from injuries suffered when a horse he was trying to saddle break for one of the large ranchers threw him. Husband and wife came from poor nester families, yet hoped marriage would lead to prosperity. He was building a good reputation as a bronco rider, commanding high, if temporary wages, when they wed and took up residence in an abandoned cabin a couple miles east of town. The vivacious young woman of 19 was more than willing to flirt to get men to buy drinks, but had no intention of taking any of them to an upstairs bedroom. Her bed was something she shared only with her husband. Perhaps, when the mourning period ended and her heart could beat for another as it had for Jack, she'd marry again.

Of course the Shoemaker twins knew nothing of this when she approached. They willingly agreed to share their bottle with her and led her to a secluded corner table. Taking seats on either side of Goldie, they ever so slowly brought their chairs and thus their bodies closer to hers until one brother was nibbling on her left ear while the other nibbled on her right. Then their hands moved over her body, caressing her breasts through the fabric and stroking her thighs by running their free hands up under the short dress. Despite her attempts to put some distance between her and them, the brothers moved even closer. In desperation her pale blue eyes caught the saphire ones of her employer.

"Miss Kitty!" she cried out. "Please stop!" she repeatedly added to her tormentors, her tone more adamant with each repetition.

"Expecting a girl to provide more than she wishes isn't tolerated," Kitty stated emphatically when she arrived at their table. "It's time the two of you left."

"Ah, but we don't want to leave," Vince, the twin on Goldie's left murmured. "We thought we'd pay whatever the going rate is for us to share her charms. It's her job after all."

"Come to think of it, it's your job too. Might you be suggesting we make it a foursome upstairs or any place of your choosing?" Vern continued on behalf of both Shoemaker brothers.

"I'm not suggesting, I'm insisting. Get out now!" she said raising her voice to match her rising temper while simultaneously moving behind the trio to yank on the brothers' chairs.

Kitty was strong enough to pull their chairs away from Goldie, but not strong enough to send the two men sprawling. The now angry brothers stood so they could turn their attention to this enticing woman with the red hair, expecting little or no resistance. However, the saloon owner was ready for them – a high-heeled shoe stomped on the nearest man's instep. Vern and Vince yowled in pain as one. The escalating commotion drew Sam, the first man Kitty hired back when her becoming sole owner was first broached, out from behind the bar, cocked shotgun in hand. The Shoemakers departed, grumbling under their breath as they did so.

When the brothers didn't reappear by the time she was ready to close, Kitty breathed a sigh of relief. Still, she took due precautions by insisting Goldie stay until Sam could escort her home and see her safely inside behind a firmly locked door. Vince and Vern watched from the shadows as Sam took Goldie's arm and helped her into the buggy she'd managed to retain after Jack's death. Having no way of knowing Goldie was a widow they determined the girl must belong to the bartender. Besides, the feisty redhead who acted like she owned the place intrigued them more. Whether she did or didn't own the saloon the woman lived there. She remained inside the locked darkened building except for a light visible in an upstairs room. Soon, even that light was dimmed to the point where it was no longer visible. They determined to learn her habits and then exact their revenge and incidentally monetary gain. She'd bend to their will or else.


	3. Chapter 3 Revenge

Chapter 3 – Revenge

AN: Thanks to all the guests who left reviews. Alas, I can't respond to each of you individually. However, to the guest who mentioned appreciating regular posting, I apologize for skipping a day or 2. Although I complete a rough draft of my stories before posting, I do several close edits before allowing general reading of individual chapters. This weekend real life interfered. I was talking on panels at a local SF con instead of editing this chapter and starting the first of at least 3 edits on chapter 4.

Vince and Vern Shoemaker surreptitiously watched Kitty Russell for four days. They learned who her allies were and when she'd be alone and thus most vulnerable. Their plan's success depended on her sudden disappearance without a hint as to her actual fate. Of course, the plan included laying a false trail for those who insisted on investigating. The twins smirked. Every aspect of their best chance to regain the place in society the Shoemaker family held before The War was falling into place.

The family occupied the pinnacle of society in their part of southwestern Missouri prior to the upheaval that ended in devastation in '65. The twins' parents owned land tilled by slaves outside Neosho, the Newton County Seat, and a feed and grain store in the heart of that town. Ironically, the Shoemaker misfortunes paralleled those of the not as wealthy abolitionist Dillon family. Young Matthew Dillon lived with his part-time town sheriff father Tom and mother Alice in Seneca, a smaller town to the west in the same county. The difference was the Shoemaker farm and store went up in flames at the hands of Jayhawkers a month after Lee surrendered, while the Dillon farm was burnt to the ground by a disturbed youth Rich Beckman in the mid-50s. Hence, Vince and Vern were battle-scarred veterans at the time of their great loss rather than boys on the cusp of manhood like Matt when they were orphaned. They already knew what they wanted and had a semblance of an idea of how to get it.

That overall plan led the brothers to learn all they could of the investment opportunities in the town that had earned the title "Queen of the Cow Towns" before starting out for it from their base of operations in Kansas City, Kansas. As a result of finding myriad opportunities, they immediately upon arrival deposited the $1,000 they'd accumulated through various schemes since The War left them nearly penniless in the Dodge bank to provide proof of adequate funding to purchase land outside town should anyone ask.

Ranching wasn't the only business opportunity of interest to the Shoemaker twins. There were all those businesses that catered to the big ranchers, those intimately and even peripherally connected to the annual arrival of herds from Texas, hunters and trappers, railroad expansion and even dirt farmers. Chief among these were the gambling dens, brothels, dance halls and saloons. The Long Branch, with its roulette, faro and high stakes poker games augmented by willing pretty girls to be had for a price, bartenders doubling as musicians and high quality whiskey and beer was the best of them and thus potentially very profitable for them. As the Shoemakers saw it, money to purchase cattle and horses and pay the hired hands on the legitimately purchased ranch could easily come from the feloniously obtained saloon's profits. Best of all, nobody would ever realize the saloon wasn't obtained legally.

The twins didn't know the current contents of the Long Branch office, but it hardly mattered to them. Whatever cash the safe contained was a bonus, because the real prize was contained in the papers locked in it and the office file drawers. These contained signatures on official documents detailing the ownership and suppliers and profit and loss statements. The office was also a private place to trap Kitty Russell and complete their scheme for profit and revenge. Vern and Vince continued their surveillance, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at their seemingly unsuspecting victim.

Kitty felt she was being watched despite experience telling her the most dangerous time of year was past. The cowboys had mostly departed, along with their hangers on, and the approaching fall harvest occupied the minds and time of those living in surrounding Ford County. She knew whatever trouble occurred as fall moved toward winter tended to pop up seemingly spontaneously in the less reputable saloons, dance halls and gambling houses. Rarely was it so bad that it was beyond Matt Dillon's stiff-legged assistant Chester Goode's ability to handle it with occasional assistance from the bartenders and owners of those establishments. She hardly thought about the twins, almost forgetting they were still in town.

Front Street was quiet when Kitty entered Jonas' store to purchase staples for tomorrow's free lunch and ingredients for the basic foods her cook prepared daily to go with the drinks the bar served. It was a good day so far and she saw no reason why it should change. Sam, whom she'd learned to trust implicitly during the past year, retrieved her mail from Chester, surreptitiously corralling a telegram from Matt that the jailer hadn't had time to read. Of course she'd told Chester and Doc its contents during dinner an hour ago at one. Her cowboy would be home tomorrow morning in time for the four of them to go to breakfast at the early hour, at least for her, of nine.

Because her day was going so well Kitty felt confident Jonas would have the new dress she'd ordered waiting for her in his back room that she hoped to wear for the first time when Matt escorted her to the fall sociable. After arranging for her other purchases to be delivered to the Long Branch kitchen, she set about seeing to whatever else needed doing, starting with the alterations on her new dress. That left working on anything urgent concerning her account books in her office before going up to her rooms to ponder exactly which outfit to wear tomorrow morning for Matt's official return to be followed by a light supper and retiring to her bed early.

Unfortunately, her plans for a relaxed evening meshed perfectly with those of the Shoemaker brothers who, upon finishing their own breakfast at Delmonico's, had watched her from the moment she returned to the Long Branch from the bank. They patiently waited while her dressmaker pinned and marked the blue satin gown so it would fit perfectly when she wore it. They then followed at a distance when she entered her office, waiting in the hallway shadows until she completed a sale with a whiskey drummer. The poor drummer never missed his copy of the signed receipt that Vince and Vern appropriated when they jostled him.

Both brothers entered the room before the office door fully closed. Kitty, sitting at her desk engrossed in her books, sensed more than heard them. Thus, she turned her head a moment too late to retrieve the derringer from the top drawer.

"I'll take whatever you were about to get from that drawer," Vince demanded, stepping forward and placing his own derringer in the small of her back.

"We'll also take some of your blank paper except for the saloon's name and address and what's currently in the safe, on that desk and in the drawers," Vern added. "Care to tell us the combination?"

"Not on your life!" Kitty defiantly replied.

"In that case we'll have to watch closely while you open it," Vince continued, pulling her to her feet and twisting her left arm behind her back to rest just above where he still held the small pistol.

Kitty tried to scream, not just from the pain, but to let Sam know they were being robbed. Before she could yell anything, Vince jerked up on her arm causing an involuntary gasp so that Vern could stuff one of her own handkerchiefs into her mouth, quickly securing it in place with a tie that would normally have encircled his own neck. Upon hearing the hammer being pulled back on the gun at her back she decided losing some money wasn't worth dying over. As to the combination, Matt would have them in jail before the series of numbers could be spread to anyone else and she was able to change it. Besides, all her safe contained at the moment were duplicates of some papers that were in a bank deposit box and the take from the lunch and early afternoon crowd.

The brothers tied her hands behind her and then secured her to her desk chair, but didn't both depart. Instead only Vince left while Vern spread out the papers, mostly receipts from transactions with various drummers like the sales agreement copy they'd filched from the departing whiskey drummer's pocket. However, among those papers was her copy of her agreement to buy out Bill Pence with their signatures and that of bank president Harry Bodkin as witness. Beaming, Vern pulled a visitor's chair up to the desk and went to work.

Kitty, immobilized, watched in astonishment as Vern, his face now one of complete concentration, practiced imitating her handwriting on handy scraps of paper. Each attempt to complete with a facsimile of a bill of sale, including her and Bodkin's signature, was better than the last. Finally satisfied that not someone very familiar with her handwriting and her and the banker's signatures or even a handwriting expert could tell his efforts from the genuine article, Vern forged several copies of two bills of sale on Long Branch stationary. On one Kitty sold the brothers the Long Branch while on the other Bill Pence sold the saloon to them. He locked one copy of each false ownership transfer in the safe along with the papers that were originally in it, securing the other copies he'd made in his inner coat pocket. By the time the task was complete, Vince returned.

"I told the stableman I needed two horses so we could ride out of town to look at available property. I tied 'em out back. In case you're wondering, Red, thanks to the good people of Dodge we've many investment possibilities to choose from," Vince quipped as his derringer again pressed against the small of her back while an identical one appeared in Vern's right hand, a desk's width away from her head. "They've no reason not to believe us."

"It's time to leave, girl," Vern snarled as Vince, without moving his pistol, cut the ropes holding her to the chair with his pocketknife, leaving the ones securing her hands behind her back intact. "Don't get any ideas you stand a chance of getting loose. It will be a fist and a bullet if you don't do exactly as you're told."


	4. Chapter 4 Matt Returns

Chapter 4 – Matt Returns

Matt Dillon hardly slept while taking Kyle Stoneman to his hanging nor did he get much sleep after delivering his prisoner. He remained alert and anxious for any sign of trouble along the trail, maybe from another killer anxious to avenge Stoneman's death. The other nagging feeling adding to his anxiety was that Kitty Russell was in trouble, making it imperative that he reach her sooner rather than later. Perhaps, he imagined, Stoneman's friend was holding her hostage to trap him. Men like that already saw women as an object to be possessed so the skunk would have no compunction about how he used her beyond keeping her alive after she served her primary purpose. She'd be completely expendable except as a means to prolong his torture and their captor's pleasure. This ever-present possibility contributed to his insisting their relationship remain secret and that marriage was impossible unless he survived long enough to retire – a highly doubtful outcome considering the nature of his job.

Matt traveled south from Hays toward home as quickly as he could, stopping only to provide necessary rest to his big buckskin. Even without pausing long enough for a hot meal or cup of coffee, it was three AM when he rode down Front Street. The lawman was pleased his town was quiet even as the inner man was disappointed a particular upstairs window in the Long Branch was dark. As much as he wanted to join her tonight, Matt knew his redhead needed her beauty sleep thanks to, for her at least, the early breakfast hour he'd arranged. Reluctantly he decided not to risk waking her. Therefore, after seeing Buck settled in his stall, the weary man made his way to the private entrance to his room at the back of Ma Samlley's boarding house. Once inside he removed his hat, gun belt, vest and boots before throwing himself down on the narrow bed.

Matt's dreams during the not quite five hours he allowed himself to remain in bed were far from restful. He kept hearing Kitty cry for help from a particularly deep gully along the east side of the wide dirt track that was the Jetmore Road. The cries weren't strong. In fact they faded during the dream as if her life were slowly ebbing away. The nightmare lay in the fact he passed along that stretch, a mere five miles outside town, on his way home. Even so, by the time he arose it was nearly eight.

Feeling particularly grubby, Matt decided merely washing up, shaving and donning a clean set of clothes wasn't enough. He needed a bath. One of the extras Ma supplied on request was a hot bath in one of her two washrooms – one for men and one for women. It was probably late enough in the morning that a clean tub and hot water could be acquired without waiting. Ma tended to have several tubs available in both washrooms and made sure her tenants could partake of a hot bath for an hour after the last seating for breakfast. It was a kindness for those who of necessity had a late night.

Accordingly, Matt, clad in a robe Kitty had given him for his last birthday, made his way to the washroom via his interior door. He didn't have far to go. It lay between his room and the kitchen so the landlady was already filling a tub upon hearing his distinctive, even sans boots, footsteps. The other tenants weren't quite so lucky. They had to wear their soiled clothing so as to let her know their intensions and then change into clean attire before exiting.

A refreshed Matt dropped off what he'd worn on the trail at the Chinese laundry on the way to his office. He needed to see for himself that Chester and the jailhouse interior were still in one piece.

He entered, automatically placing his hat on the upper peg by the door. To his relief all was normal. Coffee was heating on the stove, his mail was stacked in a neat pile on his desk and Chester was busily washing the office floor. Since nobody was hollering he assumed, as it turned out correctly, the cells were empty. He tossed his gun belt on the table before settling into and leaning back in his chair.

"Mornin' Mr. Dillon," Chester said without looking up from his task. "When did yah get in?"

"Late," he replied looking at the stack of mail, which didn't include a paycheck. "Coffee ready?"

"Yes sir. Anything else you need?"

"No. Coffee will do until breakfast."

"I'm surprised Doc ain't in here awready. Maybe he wants one more chance for Miss Kitty to be on his arm when he enters Delmonico's."

Matt smiled at the mental image of his girl on the fatherly arm of the old man. He was also pleased to hear the town had been quiet during his absence except for a couple unruly drunks at the Texas Trail and Lady Gay and a pair of businessmen Sam and Kitty tossed out of the Long Branch when they came on too strong with Goldie, the now sole owner's latest hire. He wished for at least a few more peaceable days so he and Kitty could get in a picnic and a bit of fishing without Chester interrupting them. He was hopeful. His mail included a few new wanted posters, but no dire warnings of killers and spoilers heading this way for him to risk his life on while dealing with them. Perhaps, he mused, with winter approaching the lull would last a week or more.

Having read the last bit of mail that accumulated during the week he'd been away, Matt pushed back his chair and stood to leave. He began to buckle on his gun belt while Chester, who'd finished with the floor, took away his boss' empty cup to wash when they got back from eating or more likely to be refilled until the end of the day. Both men grabbed their hats from the pegs by the door and headed toward Delmonico's just as the clock behind them showed it was nine. When they arrived Doc was already waiting on the boardwalk outside the restaurant.

"Doc, where's Kitty?"

"You know how she hates mornings, Matt. She probably overslept. Why don't we get a table? I'm sure she'll be along directly," he replied in an attempt to reassure his large, young yet close friend.

When Kitty still hadn't arrived a half hour later, the three men became worried. Doc and Chester remembered her telling them she planned to take the night off and turn in early so she'd be sure to awake in time. The recollection only served to make them worry more – Doc thinking she was sick and Matt that something had happened to her. Although he was worried as well, imaging all sorts of disasters, Chester still had food on his mind.

"I don't see why we didn't order while we waited," Chester moaned. " We could've eaten by now."

You'll just have to wait a bit longer. First we need to check on Kitty," Matt told him.

The three friends crossed the street to find Sam, her tall, weather worn head bartender, setting up for the day at the Long Branch. He didn't act concerned until he saw the men enter without his boss.

"I thought Miss Kitty was having breakfast with you. Did she go off on some errand after you finished eating?"

"No Sam," Matt replied. "Have you seen her this morning?"

"I haven't seen her since late yesterday afternoon, Marshal. That's when she told me she was going up to her room after she finished in her office."

Matt took the barroom stairs three at a time, followed closely by Sam and Chester. The shorter, older Doctor Adams brought up the rear, yet he was just as anxious to get up to her rooms as the others. Matt knocked, but, when he got no answer, didn't waste time fishing the key she'd given him out of his vest pocket. Instead he kicked in the unlocked door, not realizing that was the case until afterward. The room was unoccupied and it was obvious her bed hadn't been slept in. Matt began barking orders for them to separate to find the last person to see her but didn't bother to name a meeting place. It turned out Miss Edsel Pry, who was coming from the bank, and Mr. and Mrs. Stroeheim, who were exiting the Dodge House, were the last to glimpse the red-haired beauty. They gathered between the two buildings to talk about the details.

"Marshal, I saw Miss Russell shamelessly riding astride a horse in front of a man. They and another man on horseback were heading north past my house on Bridge Street."

"Two men and a woman on two horses passed us as we were bringing the wagon into town down the same street," Luther Stroeheim informed them.

"I'm sure it was Miss Russell because of the red hair. The man riding alone was between us and the couple, but despite that I got the impression she was being held on that horse against her will," his wife Hilda added. "I couldn't see her hands in front of her, only his."

"I need to borrow your wagon, Stroeheim. Doc, she may need you. Chester, follow if you learn anything new," Matt barked. "Sam, stay at the Long Branch until we get back."

Matt waited while Doc went for his medical bag, garnering as many details as he could from the three witnesses. He was about to climb up on the wagon bench with Doc when Miss Pry spotted two men she was certain she'd seen with Kitty near her house heading for the Long Branch.

"Don't leave, Marshal. Those two are the ones from yesterday."

When the Stroeheims nodded in agreement as to the men's identity, Matt rushed across Front Street toward the saloon. He followed close enough in the wake of the two men that the batwing doors were still swinging from the their passage through them. Sam was already behind the bar attending to his regular job and his personally perceived duty to protect his boss and friend's investment even without Marshal Dillon's orders.


	5. Chapter 5 At Death's Door

Chapter 5 – At Death's Door

AN: Thanks to gunsmokefan for your thoughtful guest reviews. I'd send a personal thank you if I could.

Kitty Russell bided her time, hoping for a chance to escape. Her captors had tossed her up on Vince's mount so hard that, with her hands tied behind her, she nearly fell off before Vern raced to the right side of his brother's roan to catch her. He steadied her until Vince could clamber on behind her and put his arms around her before taking hold of the reins, pinning her in place. In short order Vern was astride his bay.

The unlikely trio rode at a slow walk until they cleared the alley behind the Long Branch and connected with Bridge Street, turning north out of town at a brisk walk. Kitty, as they passed the corner of Bridge and Spruce Streets, saw Miss Edsel Pry standing in her front yard under the peach tree the Pry family had planted years ago. It was obvious to her the spinster noticed them ride by, but there was no guarantee the prim and proper older woman noticed or cared a soiled dove turned saloon keeper was bound and gagged. Miss Pry would most likely dismiss the trio's passage as another example of that Russell woman's moral turpitude.

At the edge of town a farm couple offered the kidnapped woman another slim chance of rescue when they passed while moving in opposite directions. Kitty recognized Luther Stroeheim from his monthly visits to the Long Branch for a beer. She knew from what little Luther said that Mrs. Stroeheim almost always accompanied him. She'd only seen the woman in passing on Front Street and in the shops, so had no idea what the respectable woman thought of her. To make matters worse, the Shoemaker brothers had spotted the farm wagon's dust in the distance and so switched places before the wagon drew abreast with their horses. Unlike when they were riding past the Pry residence, Vern now rode between her and the horse she shared with Vince.

Upon clearing the town limits, the Shoemaker brothers increased the pace to a gentle trot. They kept the pace up for a quarter hour after turning onto the Jetmore Road causing Kitty to wonder how much farther they'd take her. After traveling no more than a couple miles they again slowed the pace before coming to a complete halt where the gully on the east side of the road was particularly deep. Vince and Vern then turned their horses' noses back toward town next to a sign that read Dodge City five miles before dismounting. Once both men were on the ground they unceremoniously pulled Kitty off Vince's roan and stood her on her feet facing the ditch.

"Get movin'," Vince ordered, both brothers prodding her in the back with their pistols to bring home to her the seriousness of his spoken demand. "We'll tell you when to stop."

Kitty was now certain they meant to kill her, but she intended to delay her death as long as possible. She stopped at the edge of the three-foot deep gully and began to turn toward them to give the brothers a piece of her mind.

"Don't move, if you value livin'," Vern taunted. "Anythin' you want to say in your defense we can hear, if we've a mind to, with yer back to us."

The snide comment got her dander up, but Kitty did as she was told. She remained facing the ditch. Then she opened her mouth, her tone filled with the wrath that had built up inside her.

"My defense! The only ones standing here who'll need a defense are you two hog wallowers! I'm not the one who forced a business owner to open her safe, forged a bill of sale and kidnapped her!"

"You really don't get it, do you?" You and that barkeep of yours stopped us from having the fun we're entitled to," Vince snarled, ignoring Chester's presence that day. "We don't blame him. He was only protecting his gal and job. You, on the other hand, Red, were denying the very nature of your business – givin' men what they want."

"I know it's hard fer a gal to get, but what my brother's sayin' is someone has to make sure those workin' in a saloon, classy or not, know what is and isn't tolerated," Vern added. "It's why we made it ours. Pretty little things like you don't get paid for simply hustling drinks. They sure don't make the rules."

"Since you're so good at explanations, how will you explain the seller's absence?" Kitty asked, thinking quickly despite fearing her life was over at the age of 26, just as it showed promise of a happy and prosperous future. "I've got friends who will wonder at my sudden departure."

"Yeah, we got that figured," Vince murmured. "I didn't just rent a couple horses, I bought a train ticket. I told the station manager you were sellin' to us so you could become a partner in a brewery. I reckon he bought you figurin' you could make more supplyin' the goods and with less danger to yourself than being a saloon owner and madam. We'll pass along your wish to make a clean break with your past. Of course Vern made up the brewery and nobody will actually see you get on a train or arrive in St. Louis, should anyone care to ask."

"You seem to have thought of everything. However, you'd better hope all my friends believe you. At least one special friend will keep at it until he's ferretted out the truth. It's his nature," Kitty stated, not bothering to say it's his job or that he loves her in his own way possibly as much as she loves him.

Vern and Vince replied by firing their derringers from where they stood ten feet away. The impact of the bullets sent her tumbling into the ditch where she landed face down, a wound in both her left and right sides. They jumped down after her. Now semiconscious, she was only dimly aware of Vince taking out his knife to cut the rope holding her hands behind her back and Vern, turning her head to allow him to unknot his tie to release the handkerchief gag it held in place. He dropped the hanky by her now free left hand while Vince used his pocketknife to stab her in the back of her thighs.

Thanks to the brothers flipping her onto her back the cloth was now by her right hand. Kitty listened as the Shoemakers rode back to town then reached for it. By then dusk was approaching. She used what light remained and her waning strength to sit up and assess her wounds. All that counted was staying alive until Matt found her.

Modesty was forgotten. She removed her blouse, loosened her corset and tore her chemise to expose the wounds in her sides. Then she lifted her skirts and ripped off strips of her petticoat to use as bandages. Having determined the bullet wound to her left side was bleeding the most, Kitty placed her handkerchief over the wound, holding it in place while she awkwardly wound several strips of cloth around her lower torso. Lifting her skirts to her waist to bandage her legs proved easier.

Kitty lapsed into unconsciousness upon completing her task of stopping, or at least slowing down, the bleeding. It was fully dark when she awoke to hoof beats. At first her fevered brain thought it was the Shoemakers returning to make sure she was dead, but soon realized she was hearing a single horse cantering toward Dodge. Desperately Kitty tried to call out to the lone rider whom she sensed was Matt returning home, but was too weak. She'd lost too much blood. All she managed was a faint whisper that could only be heard if he dismounted and stood at the edge of the gully. Even so, she thought Buck hesitated as if both man and horse sensed her presence.

Kitty again drifted into unconsciousness until dawn. Somehow those few hours and the warmth of the sun gave her enough strength to remove her shoes and toss them to the edge of the ditch where a person looking for any sign of her would see them. She knew when she didn't show up for breakfast Matt would send a posse out in in every direction in search of her. He'd personally backtrack along his route of last night. Her only thought as she again lapsed into unconsciousness, weaker than before, was he'd be too late.


	6. Chapter 6 Distrustful Encounter

Chapter 6 – Distrustful Encounter

Vern and Vince Shoemaker turned at the intrusive sound of deliberate boot steps. Vern, the more observant of the twins, noticed the badge on the big man's chest. The local law was back in town for them to cultivate. Chuckling inwardly, he was sure the lawman would want to be on the right side of the new owners, the Shoemaker twins. Turning back toward Sam and Goldie, the only girl scheduled to work this early, Vern held up the paper in his hand.

"This here's the bill of sale transferrin' ownership of the Long Branch Saloon to my brother Vincent and me. I'm Vernon Shoemaker. You two'll pass along word to the others they're still employed but under our rules. If any of you break even one of 'em, you'll be out on your ear."

His speech over, Vern turned around to face the brook no nonsense stance and expression of the man towering above them. Vince's eyes from the moment Matt entered never drifted from the marshal, sizing up the possibility of a significant challenge to the new circumstances. Vern had already dismissed the possibility of trouble from this new player considering his assistant Chester had willingly supplied Matt's name and the fact he was out of town at a trial. Thinking they knew all about lawmen, size not withstanding, the brothers hadn't bothered to inquire too closely into his habits. They suspected he could be bribed if necessary like all the other badges they'd encountered. Crooked peace officers were the main reason the twins were still conducting business.

"Marshal, Dillon ain't it?" Vince, a half inch taller than his otherwise physically identical brother, asked extending his right hand.

"We intended to talk to you at the first opportunity," Vern added, extending his right hand as well.

The marshal glared at the brothers while running the recent conversation in Delmonico's through his mind. Doc had mentioned Kitty was disappointed Matt left a few hours before her planned signing the agreement to buy out Bill Pence celebration. However, she seemed reconciled to this welcome home breakfast as a substitute for last week's celebration. Her feelings didn't surprise Matt, who, despite outward appearances, wasn't entirely oblivious to Kitty's moods and purchases. He knew she wouldn't have missed today's breakfast if she could help it. More than that, when he last saw her alone, she'd indicated she hoped to follow the public gathering with a private celebration of her new status once the Pence family was on their way to their new life in Pueblo. Those facts, coupled with the apparent sale of the Long Branch so soon after acquiring it, made Matt suspicious of the supposed new owners.

"I'm interested in hearing what you have to say," Matt replied, extending his own hand, but not to shake either of theirs. "First, I'll take a look at that bill of sale."

"Certainly, Marshal," Vern replied handing over the paper he'd transferred to his left hand before offering his right to Matt. "I'm sure you'll find it in order. My brother Vince has the copy for the bank in his inner coat pocket. In case you came in too late to overhear me address our new employees, I'm Vern Shoemaker," he added knowing it was a lie.

Matt glanced at the proffered paper. When he finished reading, he folded it over and placed it in his inner vest pocket.

"I'll take the other as well," he stated, reaching for Vince's copy. "If it proves to be as legitimate as you claim, you can have it back."

"What seems to be the problem, Marshal?" Vern asked in all innocence while nodding at his brother to follow his lead.

"It seems strange a woman who less than a week ago became sole owner of this saloon would then sell it to two strangers."

"Oh, is that all?" Vern quipped. "A drummer came through the other day and told Miss Russell of a highly lucrative opportunity to become a partner in a St. Louis brewery. Our proposal proved to be most fortuitous. She accepted our generous offer and took the resulting cash payment with her on the evening train before the opportunity to both succeed financially and bury her tainted past vanished. I doubt anyone in her new home will consider her to be anything but a suddenly wealthy spinster intent on investing her inheritance. I can't imagine her ever wanting to return to this dusty backwater."

"Oh, I see-," Matt responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Too bad this forged bill of sale proves your story's a clever bit of fiction."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself, Marshal," Vince retorted, totally convinced of his brother's talents. "Your attempt at blackmail won't work. Neither her friends nor her former employees could tell her handwriting from that of the whore over there," he added pointing to Goldie. "However, now that you've indicated your willingness to make some extra money, we'll gladly pay a reasonable amount for your assistance," he added jumping to the wrong conclusion.

"Consider it a salary for you to make sure nobody interferes with the special favors our girls perform or the sometimes unfortunate consequences those favors may lead to."

"That's your second mistake. I happen to be one of those friends you mentioned, a special friend with intimate knowledge of her handwriting, both personally and professionally. You two are under arrest for forgery, attempting to bribe a federal officer and, unless I find her alive, murder," Matt declared, taking a step closer to them, but remaining out of their reach.

"Now you're being downright ornery," Vince quipped as he and his brother began to step back toward the bar without turning from the lawman.

"We don't see why you're botherin' to make a show of followin' the law," Vern continued for Vince. "A whore turned madam ain't hardly worth forgettin' your suspicions. Best of all, you collect your first payment for **not** doin' something."

"What we won't do, is tell you where we left the redhead," Vince sneered, saying too much and not noticing Sam, who also hadn't been fooled, picking up the shotgun from the shelf beneath the bar.

Matt, his anger deepening by the second, turned his back in disgust while he waited for the Shoemakers to do anything except willingly be led to jail. Vince and Vern obliged him a moment later when Chester entered the saloon carrying a rifle, followed closely by Doc.

Buoyed by the distraction, the brothers, drawing their derringers, rushed the law officer in tandem. His reactions like lightening, Matt, at Chester 's warning shout and the sound of Sam cocking both barrels of the shotgun, turned, ready to fire his drawn Colt. Instead, knowing he was covered, Matt used it to knock the small pistols from their hands before either man could shoot, kicking them across the floor toward Chester to pick up as he stepped forward.

Matt holstered his Peacemaker, surprising the now disarmed brothers further. Now close enough for his long arms to connect with both men, he backhanded Vern with a wide swing of his left arm and sent a powerful right jab into Vince's jaw. Both Shoemakers crumpled to the floor allowing Matt to frisk them for any additional weapons. Vince's pocketknife bore traces of dried blood. He pocketed the additional evidence.

"One more stunt like that and I'll kill both of you with my bare hands. I promise to leave one alive to watch the other die slowly," a barely under control Matt growled, thinking learning Kitty's exact location might no longer matter. "Chester, Sam, lock them up. If they give you any trouble, shoot them. Doc, let's go."

The final order was spoken more out of hope than anything else. His desperation showed as Matt raced through the batwing doors, barging in front of Sam, Chester and the prisoners. He stood on the boardwalk by the Stroeheims and their ready to depart wagon watching his assistant and Kitty's head bartender march to the jail with the Shoemakers. Doc soon joined his friend and the couple with him. Nodding at the Stroeheims in thanks for the use of the wagon, Matt jumped up on the bench while the physician barked orders of his own.

"Grab a couple blankets and pillows," Doc said hefting his medical bag and pointing from what the Stroeheims had gathered from Wilbur Jonas and placed in front of his store while they waited to the already cleared space in the wagon bed. "That should do until we can get her back here," he added when Stroeheim and Jonas finished. "If we're lucky we'll meet her walking home."

With that, Doc joined Matt on the bench seat so they could get to his patient, who in the relatively short time since she arrived had become the daughter he never had. Like the man beside him, the physician's mind was racing. He'd only do what he must to keep her alive out there. It was much better to deal with wounds in his more antiseptic office.

Those couple of minutes until Doc joined him and he sent the wagon careening north toward where Kitty was last seen seemed the longest in Matt's life. He drove as if he were a driver for the Overland Express trying to make up lost time after waiting for a new wheel. This time, however, Matt was at the reins urging the single horse to go as fast as possible because of the fear inside him.


	7. Chapter 7 Rescue

Chapter 7 – Rescue

AN: Thank you again to all the guests who posted reviews. I appreciate the encouragement. I have just one question for the lone reviewer whose criticism is disguised as faint praise. Annabelle, what are your qualifications? I have no way of knowing if you've ever been paid, as I have as a journalist and tech writer/editor, to edit and/or write unless you quit hiding behind your guest status. Perhaps I'd feel differently if afforded the opportunity to respond in a PM to specific examples that indicate you understand the difference between a run-on sentence and a complex one.

"Slow down! We're trying to save Kitty, not get ourselves killed!"

"Doc, you're a fine one to talk, the way you drive. I've a hunch where we might find her, but I'm afraid we might be too late!"

"Matt, we can't give up hope!"

Matt Dillon didn't say another word. He simply nodded at his companion, a man who loved Kitty in a different way than he did. Oh, Doc joked about marrying her, but the big, handsome man driving the wagon knew it was all part of an effort to get the young woman he thought of as a daughter settled down with the young man he thought highly enough of to want as his son-in-law. In short, the overgrown public servant driving the wagon had become a surrogate son. As if he'd actually heard the epithet so often uttered with affection, Matt spurred the horse to an even greater speed upon clearing the town limits. It was his silent retort.

The distraught man kept enough of his wits about him that he actually slowed down when they came to the right hand fork that was the Jetmore Road. It might be the older man had a point. They'd be no good to her if they didn't reach her in one piece. Matt wasn't worried for himself, but it was essential for Doc to be able to provide whatever medical assistance she required. Besides, he sensed it was time to begin looking for any sign of Kitty Russell. Matt remembered his nightmare and also where he was last night when the nagging feeling she was nearby and in trouble first nibbled at his consciousness.

At the five-mile marker, the exact spot where he was too tired and it was too dark to look for sign, the feeling that was strongest in his dream hit him. It was like he was the hot piece of iron and anvil a blacksmith's hammer struck. Matt tugged sharply on the reins pulling the horse to a sudden stop and set the brake. His sharp eyes had spotted a pair of ladies shoes at the edge of the ditch on his right. They couldn't have been there last night. Despite the late hour and long ride, he was sure he would have spotted them.

"There," he pointed to her shoes as he jumped down.

At first the doctor didn't know what his friend was pointing at. He clambered down from the wagon anyway, grabbing his medical bag from under the seat on the way. Sure enough, those were a woman's shoes. Even her personal physician couldn't be certain they belonged to the missing woman. He hadn't looked at her feet yesterday, but the shoes definitely fit the style she'd wear and were approximately the right size. Doc joined Matt at the gully's lip. He looked down into the ditch at Kitty Russell lying there, her eyes closed as if in sleep. At least he hoped it was sleep.

"Matt, climb down and pick her up very gently. It will be easier to examine her on level ground where the light's better."

Doc's words snapped Matt out of his reverie. He wasn't looking at her dead body. Kitty Russell had to be alive and Doc needed his help keeping it that way. He hopped down into the gully being careful not to disturb the ground around the unmoving redhead in case her attackers left any clues. Ignoring the blood coloring the bandages around her bared upper body and the fear within him, he placed his long, strong arms under her body to carry out Doc's instructions. He didn't feel for a pulse lest he find none. Instead Matt Dillon tenderly lifted the woman who'd become both his best friend and lover to carry her out of the depression that looked too much like an open grave. He gently placed her on an area of soft prairie grass that happened to be next to her shoes.

"Doc, is she?" he managed to get out, but couldn't say anymore as he watched Adams look over her body and move his stethoscope around seeking the faintest sign of life.

"Yes, Matt, she's alive – barely. She's lost a lot of blood," Doc was finally able to say, once he caught a very faint pulse and slow, weak heartbeat. "I'll know more when we get her up to my office. I suspect a couple more wounds, but I won't know for certain until then."

Matt drove as fast as he dared, but nowhere near as rapidly as during the trip out. Doc, now seated beside his patient in the bed of the wagon, wanted to get back to town quickly, but without further risk to his patient. She had at least two bullets in her. Their position within her body could change if jarred. She might hemorrhage and bleed to death before they reached his office. Thankfully Matt managed to miss every rut. The outwardly stoic man sighed with relief when the physician pronounced her still alive, if unconscious, as they came to a halt in the alley next to Doc's stairs. He allowed the doctor to reach those steps leading up to his office before gently lifting Kitty from her wagon bed. The physician left the door wide open for him.

Doc was already busy washing his hands and preparing his instruments. Therefore, Matt wasted no time. Immediately after placing Kitty on the examining table he shut the doctor's door and turned a questioning gaze on the physician. Uncharacteristically he desperately needed to be told what to do.

"I need your help turning her over so I can examine her wounds more closely," Doc remarked as he gestured for Matt to stand beside him.

Galen Adams put on his spectacles and bent closer to inspect the strips of petticoat Kitty had wrapped around her visible wounds. He instructed Matt to turn her body from flat on her back to first her left and then her right side and finally onto her stomach. The only visible pattern of wounds was the patches of blood on either side of her abdomen. He needed to be certain those two visible wounds to her torso were the only ones on her body. He'd worry about internal bleeding later. The first step was to look at the source of the bandage strips. He glanced at his companion who was acting in the unaccustomed role of physician's assistant.

"I need you to pull her petticoat from under her skirts," he said purposely avoiding telling the blushing young man beside him his full intention. "Carefully, now. Kitty's already torn it to make those bandages just above her waist and tied them off securely with her stockings and garters."

Matt gingerly slid the undergarment down her legs past her bare feet. He then held it with the tips of his fingers while waiting for the older man to tell him what to do with it. For the life of him, Matt couldn't understand why this man who was like family to him and Kitty kept switching his attention between the bandage, Kitty's skirts and the bit of unmentionable he now held.

"Look here," Doc spoke barely above a whisper as he pointed to two spots on the back of her skirts just above the back of her knees that were darker. "I'm sure that under the microscope I'll find the stains are blood. The Shoemakers didn't want her to be able to have a chance of getting to where someone might see her in time to prevent her bleeding to death, but also didn't want to leave her without hope of rescue. It was especially cruel given the time of day they chose."

"Doc, I wasn't imagining it," Matt felt compelled to say. "I heard Kitty call out to me last night when I rode past where we found her."

"That's of no never mind. I need you to act now if I'm to save her life. Drop that petticoat so you can help me remove the rest of her clothes. I'm sure I'll account for the extra strips she tore off when I do."

"Do we have to?" a red-faced Matt Dillon asked. "Can't you simply cut away the material where the bloodstains are?"

"Not if I'm to be sure of finding every wound. Stop acting like you've never seen her naked before and hand me the scissors. While I begin cutting the rest of her clothes away thoroughly wash your hands. As soon as you're done bring me clean cloths and a basin of warm water."

Doc worked tirelessly, removing Kitty's makeshift bandages that had kept her alive so far, cleaning the four wounds, then extracting the 22-caliber bullet from each of her upper body wounds. The one on her left side, where she'd used her handkerchief to provide extra padding, was the deepest of those wounds. It oozed blood once the pressure of the bandage was removed. A grim-faced, and yes, still blushing Matt, followed the older man's instructions precisely. He didn't want to risk losing the most important person in his life because he failed the man who'd kept him alive this long and could keep her alive.

A lifetime, but really a mere two hours, later Doc tied the final bandage to the naked, except for a pair of panties and fresh bandages, young woman. For possibly the 20th time, he again took her pulse and listened to her heart. The two bullets, despite the short distance from which they were fired, had missed her vital organs. Still, had Kitty not had the presence of mind to staunch the flow of blood she would have been dead.

"Doc, tell me she'll be alright!"

"I'm hopeful, but I won't know for sure until morning. Meanwhile, I've a few more things I need you to do."

"Anything."

"First go over to the Long Branch."

"Why?" Matt interrupted before Adams could say anything more.

"Because, you big lug, even though I'm sure Sam, the other bartenders and her girls saw us arrive, they'll want to know she's still breathing. I also need you to fetch a nightgown from her room to dress her in before carrying her into the spare room. I trust you can manage that given your current state of mind without turning beet red and fainting."

"Yeah, Doc. I can do that."

Matt rushed across the alley to perform his assigned tasks. He was back in less than five minutes carrying a wad of soft blue cotton under his arm. It was the nightgown he'd given her on her last birthday. He'd purchased it when he was up in Hays for a trial. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He'd picked out the color, but his closest male friend Sheriff Frank Reardon's girl Maria Soaring Eagle had actually bought it. Despite his continued embarrassment he even managed to get her dressed in it and nestled in the spare room bed without blushing too much. Doc then pulled the covers over her following yet another check of her pulse and heart rate. Exhausted, Matt sat in the chair by the bed.

"Oh no you don't. That's my chair. You belong in your own bed. I prescribe sleep, something you've had very little of lately. About all that's left for you to do Matt, is to tell Chester. He's been stuck at the jail guarding those scalawags. Before you object, Kitty won't wake until well after dawn, if she awakes at all."


	8. Chapter 8 Recovery

Chapter 8 – Recovery

Matt's ill-used body ignored his mind. His emotions didn't force him to lie awake fretting over what could and did happen to Kitty. Instead he fell into a deep, recuperative sleep, not awakening until well past dawn. Throwing on some clothes, he raced the short distance to his office, not bothering to take time to shave. He knew he wasn't quite ready to face what he'd find in Doc's office. If she'd awakened while he slept he'd be confronted with her anger at his absence. If she'd died during the night, he'd be inconsolable. As was usual in such circumstances Matt lost himself in the duties of the badge.

The US Marshal in Dodge had to request a judge and write a report. No matter the ultimate charge, the Shoemaker brothers had to be tried. However, if it turned out to be murder, he wasn't sure if the lawman or the man would ultimately win out. The only way to put off giving in to emotion was to send Chester, who would find the task a blessing, to Doc's office. The jailer cared about Kitty. Moreover, the hero-worshipping Chester cared even more about the saloon owner's place in his boss' heart. While Chester acted in his stead, Matt would lose himself in his work.

"Chester, get something to eat. I'll watch the prisoners. I've got paperwork that needs taking care of right away."

"I already et, Mr. Dillon and fed them two in there too," Chester remarked pointing to the heavy door separating the office from the cells. "Jist like I did last night. Only this mornin' it were eggs to go with the coffee, not stew. On second thought, I could do with some speckilty gravy, a mess o' taters and a steak about so thick," he said separating his thumb and forefinger about an inch and a half. "Want I should bring somethin' back fer you?"

"No thanks. I'll grab something later," Matt mumbled while thinking Doc might just insist on it as a condition for him being with Kitty later. "You might while you're out see for yourself how Kitty's doing. Come straight back and let me know if she's awake."

"I reckon I'll order up what I want at Delmonico's 'fore I go over ta Doc's so's I kin bring somethin' back fer yah ta eat whenever yah feel like it. Want yer usual?" Chester added knowing his own priorities and Doc's crafty ways. "Coffee's ready on the stove. Think Doc will want anythin'?"

"That's fine. Order Doc's usual too," Matt replied, thinking of how he'd have to counter the shrewd doctor's ploys. "I'll bring both to his office directly after you get back."

Chester watched his boss pour himself a cup of coffee before closing the door to start on his errands. He was glad to get away from the jail. It was a good thing he had the fixins for three meals for him and a couple for the prisoners. He'd been stuck there since he and Sam locked up the Shoemakers yesterday morning without a chance to personally check on how Miss Kitty was doing let alone keep a body from starving.

As soon as the jailer left Matt carried his cup of coffee to his desk. He sat down to compose a note and begin a report to be mailed to Washington. He'd finish that when he knew if Kitty would live or die. Still somehow it helped to get the details down while they were fresh in his mind. The activity kept him from brooding and from walking into the cells out back to beat Vern and Vince to a pulp. He got up anyway and opened the heavy to peek in the back to verify they were in separate cells. The brothers glared at him, but he could see they knew better than to open their mouths or even move. He slammed the door shut before resuming his seat and tasks.

Matt had time to write his telegram, wash up and shave before Chester returned. He put his pen down as the man's stiff-legged gait carried him inside the jailhouse. His assistant's grim face worried him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Hence, he let the jailer speak first, hoping his news wasn't devastating.

"I done like yah told me, Mr. Dillon. Doc wouldn't let me see Miss Kitty, but said ta tell yah she's holdin' on. Anythin' else I kin do while yah git your and Doc's breakfasts? I sure hope he lets you near her."

Doc could get overprotective of his patients, especially Kitty. Sure enough the doctor was nowhere to be seen when Matt entered despite the hat and coat hanging conspicuously on the corner coatrack. However, the door to the spare room was closed. The good doctor was sitting with his patient. Leaving both trays from Delmonico's on the office desk, Matt made his presence known without knocking.

"Doc, come eat breakfast," he said, speaking in his commanding voice. "I'll sit with Kitty."

"Did you bring food for yourself? I'll come out only if you promise to eat too," he replied through the closed door.

That was enough for Matt. Grabbing his plate in his left hand, he used his right to open the door to the sickroom. Sure enough Galen Adams was sitting on a chair pulled close to the bed, wiping Kitty's brow. He looked up at the sound of Matt's boots on the threshold.

"I'll allow you to stay since you brought your plate in with you while I eat at my desk. Before you ask, her pulse is a bit stronger this morning, but she shows no signs of awakening. Maybe your presence will rouse her."

Matt didn't immediately take the vacated chair when Doc left the room. Instead he put his plate on the nightstand while bending over to gently kiss the redhead on the forehead. After brushing his lips against hers, he turned to his rapidly cooling meal of ham, eggs and potatoes to cut everything into bite-sized pieces before taking his seat. For now the man took precedence over the lawman. Balancing the plate on his lap, he ate with his right hand while grasping her left with his left hand.

Fifteen minutes later, he'd finished eating but didn't let go of her hand or rise to take his plate to the adjoining office. Coffee to wash it all down could wait. In fact he was amazed the physician hadn't used coffee as an excuse to come into the room to continue his interrupted vigil. Was the older man giving him time alone with Kitty, knowing Matt would call him at the slightest change?

"Matt! Help me!" she urgently whispered in her weakened state less than five minutes later.

"I'm right here, honey," he murmured, almost imperceptibly squeezing her fingers.

"I knew you'd hear me. Cowboy, take me home," she said in a stronger whisper.

"You'll go home when Doc says you're strong enough, not before," he replied.

Her response was to tighten her fingers around his and turn towards him before opening her eyes. Those deep blue eyes fixated on the man sitting by her, whom she loved with all her heart. What she saw was a broad grin on a face that mirrored her loving stare. Satisfied he was truly there, Kitty looked at her surroundings. She recognized the familiar room. The reality of it was confirmed by Matt yelling out excitedly for Doc.

"You darn fool! Kitty needs her rest," Doc replied bursting into the room, knowing by his large young friend's tone the news was more than good.

"I can't wake someone who's already awake!" Matt retorted. "Kitty, you ready for Doc to poke and prod you some more?" he added in a softer, though no less relieved tone.

Kitty listened as the two men told her all about arresting her two attackers, finding her in the ditch and bringing her to Doc's office in a wagon. All the while Doc poked and prodded her as Matt predicted, listening joyfully to her now steady heartbeat and pulse before kicking the younger of her two admirers out so he could change her bandages. The doctor cajoled the big man into cooperating with the promise he could feed her beef broth when she next awoke.

Over the course of the next week Kitty steadily improved, although she allowed Matt to feed her for a couple days longer than necessary because she relished his doting on her. Her still weak legs and sore sides convinced her personal physician to keep her in the spare room where he could keep an eye on her. However, Jim Buck arrived at the stage depot with a broken leg. Jim managed to get off what turned out to be a fatal shot as a bullet hit his leg and before the two highwaymen rode away with the money.

"Kitty, Jim Buck needs this room more than you. Matt, I need you to help me set it and then ask Sam to come here to help Kitty get settled in her rooms so you can get after the robbers?"

"Doc, it won't make much difference if I pick up their trail in an hour or three hours. The holdup took place a half-hour ago five miles west of town. I'll help you set Jim's leg then settle Kitty in myself."

"Oh no you two don't!" Kitty interrupted angrily. "I've a business to run and it's high time I started running it. I can't make a living if it remains closed any longer while I'm stuck in my room."

"You're not ready to climb up and down those stairs or carry trays of drinks," Doc objected.

"Calm down," Matt interjected before Doc could continue. "A cot in the Long Branch office should satisfy you both. Kitty will only have to tackle the stairs once in the morning and once at night. Sam can keep on doing what he's been doing to keep the Long Branch running while Kitty concentrates on what can be done sitting down."

The next day Matt locked the living robber in the cell vacated by Vern. Both Shoemakers now occupied the same cell. All three would face trials beginning Tuesday when Judge Brooker was due to arrive.


	9. Chapter 9 The Trial

Chapter 9 – The Trial

AN: Thank you to everyone who's written reviews. I'd thank the guests, particularly gunsmokefan and phoenix, individually if I could.

While Matt was away chasing down the wounded robber and his partner, Sam and Doc made sure Kitty mostly stayed off her feet, took time to rest on the cot in her office and didn't attempt the stairs, even with help, until she was ready to turn in for the night at around 9:30. Either man tried to be ready to assist if needed when she tackled the stairs in the morning. Sam, as he'd done for the past week, closed up around midnight before heading home out the back door and locking it behind him. That was the routine until Matt returned with his latest prisoner.

Kitty's strength and stamina improved daily as the days that culminated in Judge Caleb Brooker's arrival passed. Even so, Matt and Doc insisted she turn in at nine after they took her to supper Monday evening. Although the trial he presided over in Garden City lasted longer than expected, the judge still managed to keep to the schedule he'd given Matt. Since nobody sleeps much on a train a tired Judge Brooker almost wished the marshal wasn't at the depot just after dawn Tuesday. Still, being dedicated like his one-man welcoming committee, he got down to business.

"Matt, fill me in as I walk to the Dodge House. I'll handle small civil matters and, if there's time, a simple criminal case this afternoon after I get some rest and wash the dust off. The case that brought me here ahead of the normal circuit schedule can wait until everything else is off the docket."

"There's a dispute over where public grazing land ends and homestead land begins, but I think I've got those involved to accept a compromise," Matt began. "You just need to sign off on it. Then there's a stage robbery five miles west of Dodge. A wounded Jim Buck managed to shoot one of the robbers. I caught up with the other when he was burying his partner. He had the money in his saddlebags. It's pretty cut and dried. The case I sent the telegram about has to do with a near fatal attack on Kitty."

"How is Miss Russell faring?" Brooker asked, showing concern for the young woman he'd met in October of the previous year. "Will she be able to testify if I begin that trial tomorrow?"

"She's doin' okay. Doc says she's still a bit weak, but can take the stand whenever you need her."

As predicted the grazing land dispute and the trial of the stage robber took up no more then a few hours of Judge Brooker's time that afternoon. The only question was the nature of the defendant's sentence. Having lost his cousin as a result of the robbery, the accused showed remorse for his actions. Taking into consideration all the money was recovered and the stage company was paying Jim while he recovered, the judge felt he could be lenient. He'd suspend the sentence of five years in state prison if the robber left Kansas. The now free man readily agreed.

Brooker awoke Wednesday morning rested and ready to begin hearing the evidence concerning the abduction and attempted murder of Kitty Russell while the accused tried to fraudulently gain ownership of the Long Branch Saloon. With some effort a balanced, if not entirely impartial, jury of 12 men was chosen and assembled. Chester, appointed bailiff by Ford County Prosecutor Luke Henley because he didn't have to testify, called "All Rise" when Judge Brooker entered the Dodge House lobby to take his seat behind the desk placed in the room for just that purpose. Court was in session at exactly 9:30 AM.

Goldie Fergus, the first witness, recalled the Shoemaker brothers trying to force her into doing more than flirting to get them to buy drinks. She was convinced they'd have had their way with her, despite her protests, if Kitty Russell and her chief bartender Sam Noonan hadn't come to her rescue.

"Aren't you required to provide a full set of services to the customers?" Wiley Sherman, the twins Kansas City lawyer asked the relatively inexperienced young woman.

"Miss Kitty, that is Miss Russell, hires us girls to get the men to buy drinks. Only those who feel comfortable with earning extra by taking men upstairs do that and even then, they have a right to choose the men and set a limit on what they'll allow them to do. Anyway, the others girls are all older – at least 20. I'm 19."

"In the six months you've been working at the Long Branch did you ever see Miss Russell bring customers upstairs? Did her upstairs activities suddenly change when she bought out Mr. Pence?"

"No sir. Miss Russell never took anyone upstairs with her except when someone was hurt or needed help."

Sherman asked Sam Noonan, who'd been working at the saloon for nearly a year, the same sorts of questions. Sam admitted he'd only been head bartender with its added responsibilities for about a month, just about the time his current boss and Mr. Pence began negotiating for Kitty to become sole owner. He also revealed his admiration for her and the kindness she showed. He tried to reciprocate by emulating and helping her as much as he could. As expected Sam's testimony was identical to what Goldie told the court about taking men upstairs, including that Matt Dillon had been among those who were hurt and in need of help. He also insisted saloon policy towards the working girls didn't change when Pence left.

Neither Edsel Pry nor the Stroeheims were asked to testify. Ford County Prosecutor Luke Henley felt their eyewitness descriptions of the Shoemakers taking Miss Russell out of town could be easily compromised with the right questions. Chester Goode's appointment as bailiff for the duration of the trial allowed Matt Dillon to be with the prosecution's other two main witnesses, but Henley didn't worry about them comparing stories since the marshal and doctor were together when Kitty was found and they were the first to hear what she experienced.

Matt spent Tuesday morning, until Chester and Sherman returned the prisoners to their cell, playing checkers with Doc. Knowing the trial was in recess the checker players wandered over to the Long Branch for a beer, but really to be certain Kitty wasn't overdoing things and to escort her to dinner at Delmonico's while Sam took charge of the saloon - something he'd been doing for the past couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, Chester, finding himself alone, sat at the table in the center of the office fooling with a short length of rope until Sherman returned with two trays from Delmonico's. The jailer diligently searched the prisoners' tray before and after the meal to make certain they kept none of the utensils. He was grateful antelope stew with its bite-sized pieces of meat didn't require knives. Sherman's questions about Mr. Dillon, Miss Kitty and Doc and his insinuating that, because he'd paid for Chester's meal, the jailer should reveal what he knew of their possible testimony bothered him. Despite his usual tendency to blab, Chester managed to reveal nothing of consequence. Still, he was relieved when it was time to return to the Dodge House lobby for the afternoon session.

Fifteen minutes after Chester left the jailhouse with the prisoners and their lawyer, the Long Branch customers, its owner and the two men who'd escorted her to dinner joined the crowd heading back to the trial. However, instead of joining the others in the Dodge House lobby, Kitty, Matt and Doc filed into the hotel office, which doubled as a temporary witness room. With nobody asking for drinks Sam closed the bar so he too could hear the trial's most important witnesses testimony first hand.

Matt was first to be called after the dinner break. While the lawman revealed what transpired from the time Kitty missed their celebratory breakfast in honor of her becoming sole owner and to acknowledge Matt's safe return, Doc and Kitty remained in the hotel office. The physician observed his patient. She was physically almost back to normal, but he felt her mental state was still a bit fragile because of her ordeal. Sam keeping her business running while she recovered certainly helped her get back to normal. He concluded both he and Kitty were ready to testify when called.

As always Matt's testimony was to the point. He clearly identified the items that had been introduced into evidence and their relevance. The lawman went over his investigation step by step including every action taken once Kitty was found in the ditch on the east side of the Jetmore Road until her return to consciousness in Doc's office to tell them how she wound up in the gully. As with the previous prosecution witnesses, everything was straightforward until Sherman's cross-examination.

"Marshal Dillon, you've told this court you immediately recognized this bill of sale as a forgery," he said, handing the referenced evidence to him. "How can you be so certain? I don't doubt your qualifications and reputation as a federal marshal, but do you also claim to be a handwriting expert?"

"Nope. I just know that handwriting. Your clients forged it for their own purposes and then tried to get rid of the one person who, even more than me and Doctor Adams, knew it to be false."

"Let's leave the bill of sale for now. There's the matter of the derringers belonging to my clients. How do you know they shot the alleged victim? Also, how can you tie Vincent Shoemaker's knife to that same attack of which both my clients are accused? You took these weapons from them when you confiscated both copies of the bill of sale, hours before you and the doctor found her."

"You said yourself, Mr. Sherman that I'm reputed to be real good at my job. Both derringers were missing one round and hadn't been cleaned since they were last fired. Vince's knife had blood on it. As it happens the size and shape of his bloody blade and the caliper of the bullets Doc removed match Kitty's wounds."

"One final question. Was there ever a time to your knowledge when Miss Russell took men up to her room?"

"Objection!" the prosecutor Luke Henley shouted. "What's the relevance of such a question concerning Miss Russell's past? Hasn't it been asked and answered by her employees?"

"The marshal's answer is vital to presenting an adequate defense, Your Honor."

The objection was overruled. Matt had to admit Kitty took men to her room in exchange for money until she became half owner of the Long Branch. Thankfully, he wasn't forced to admit under oath that he and Kitty had been intimately involved since April '67. He only had to state he'd been upstairs in a room next to her suite while falsely accused, yet still under arrest, and ill.

After Doctor Galen Adams testified to the severity, size and extent of Kitty Russell's injuries when she was found, the defense quizzed him about his personal relationship with her and whether she took men upstairs. Try as he might to imply collusion between the marshal and doctor, Sherman couldn't change the size and shape of the bloody knife or the nature of the small pistols and the bullets they discharged. As a result of repeated questioning, Doc's testimony lasted into the late afternoon. Hence, Judge Brooker felt it best to adjourn the trial until the next morning. It wasn't often that Dodge City trials lasted so long. If any unforeseen event occurred this trial might even spill over into Friday morning, the third day, before a verdict was rendered.

Keeping to the routine established the previous day, Chester and Wiley Sherman brought the Shoemaker twins to the Dodge House lobby for the continuation of their trial 15 minutes before the doors officially opened. Matt and Doc escorted Kitty into the Dodge House as soon as most folks were settled into chairs or standing along the walls, stairs and balcony. They took seats in the front row that Chester had made sure were left vacant. Not long afterwards she was called to the witness stand to be sworn in as the final prosecution witness. Chester proudly did the calling and swearing in just like he'd done for all the previous witnesses.

Henley let Kitty take her time describing her harrowing experience that began with extortion and nearly ended with her slow death from exposure and blood loss in a deep ditch along the Jetmore Road. He glanced at the jury and could see even those who had no respect for her because of how she earned her living now and in the past or hated Matt Dillon were ready to convict. He doubted Sherman could put a dent in what was an airtight case.

"I shall address you as Kitty," Wiley Sherman began. "I believe that's what your customers call you. Did you service any of those same men prior to coming to work at the Long Branch nearly seven years ago in November of '66?"

Henley stood to object before Kitty Russell let her temper get the better of her, but Judge Brooker, well versed in the law, acted sooner. Besides, he'd seen the looks on Matt Dillon and Doc Adams faces. Both men were ready to let the defense attorney taste blood.

"Mr. Sherman, I won't have members of this court insulting the witnesses. You will address the prosecution witness properly, as Miss Russell."

"Miss Russell," a chastised Wiley Sherman began. "Would you please tell the court whether or not you serviced any men in your room or theirs after your November 1866 arrival in Dodge City and were any of them known to you from prior encounters?"

"If you're asking if I prostituted myself after going to work for Bill Pence at the Long Branch the answer is yes. I did so only with men I chose and only to be able to stop as soon as I came up with the $2,500 needed to become an equal partner. As it happened none of the men I chose were the same as those in Abilene where my contract required me to, as you put it, service men. That was never one of Bill's requirements."

"Why did Mr. Pence make you his partner? For example, why didn't he choose the woman who became his wife?"

"Bill discovered I was better at keeping the books than he was almost a year before Laura arrived in Dodge. Once he learned I was good with them, he began to ask my advice in other areas. Bill respected the girls he hired. If he didn't, he wouldn't have defended Laura to her former fiancé Philip Locke or asked her to marry him."

"One final question, Miss Russell," Sherman cooed. "Given your previous statements, you must have been hysterical after unknown men kidnapped and sadistically tried to kill you. Can you say with absolute certainty it was my clients, Vincent and Vernon Shoemaker?

"I'm not prone to hysteria, Mr. Sherman. If I were, I wouldn't have survived their attack. As scared as I was due to my desperate situation, I've no doubt it was your clients who did everything I've testified to. Fear has a way of etching who's responsible into the mind of the person whose life the odds say is about to end."

He'd failed to shake Kitty Russell, just as he'd failed with Matt and Doc. Still, Wiley Sherman wasn't through. He'd gotten the twins off too many times to lose in a frontier cow town. By the time court reconvened after dinner, he'd implement Plan B.


	10. Chapter 10 Back to Normal

Chapter 10 – Back to Normal

AN: To the guest who quibbled over the over protectiveness of Kitty by Matt & Doc, I didn't mean for it to seem they were treating her like a child. However, like Matt IMO, she has a hard time remaining idle & to her keeping the Long Branch profitable is just as important as Matt's duty toward the badge or to help when those close to him are in trouble. Again thank you to all those I can't thank personally.

Wiley Sherman had known the Shoemaker twins since the War. They'd fought together for the noble cause. However, Sherman's losses were slight compared to those of his clients. The Yankees destroyed the Shoemaker house and farm. Their sleazy lawyer merely had to renounce his activities on behalf of the South and swear loyalty to the United States. It was only a small lie. He'd never stopped defending his interpretation of the Constitution even while fully engaged in the rebellion. Once reinstated, he returned to his old ways, using the law to finagle concessions for his clients. If they got back at least some of what they'd lost to the North, it was a bonus. He set up practice in relatively cheap rooms on a Kansas City, Kansas side street. Vince and Vern Shoemaker were his main clients.

Sherman put a legal sheen on the brothers' schemes. By the time they traveled to Dodge City he'd gotten them out of scrapes with their hides intact and a small interest in several businesses unless they returned to the communities in which those enterprises were located. Of course he took a percentage. Vince and Vern gladly conceded the pittances involved since their net worth grew. The lawyer even arranged for them to retain ownership in a business that could also serve as home for all three. It was a boardinghouse not far from his law office ostensibly run by the widow Henrietta Lansdowne. Only the Shoemakers, Sherman and Mrs. Lansdowne knew why nearly all the permanent residents were pretty young women.

The lawyer didn't see Kitty Russell as any different than Henrietta Lansdowne. Nobody could possibly believe the redhead was actually the sole owner of the Long Branch. He knew deep down the saloon and gambling house, like others of its ilk, was also a cathouse. Men were always the real owners of such establishments in his experience. Therefore, Sherman confidently called his only defense witness Vernon Shoemaker to the stand. Despite the prosecution's strong evidence the lawyer was sure the more articulate of the twins' version of events would sway the jury. He just had to avoid openly exposing himself and his clients to perjury charges.

"Mr. Shoemaker, Marshal Dillon has testified the bill of sale entered into evidence is a forgery. If he is to be believed, Miss Russell would not have given you the combination to the safe. Is there some other explanation as to how you obtained it?"

"Yeah, he's sorta right. That bill of sale is a fake. She never owned even part of the Long Branch. Her favorite customer Matt Dillon's probably the one who got Bill Pence to agree to pretend she was a full partner. Vince and I bought the saloon over a month ago from Pence before he left for Pueblo. I'm sorry to say he accidently took all three copies. Our and the bank's copies arrived in yesterday's mail. He gave us the combination to the safe when we signed. Eventually we'll get around to changin' it to one only we know."

"What about the attack on Miss Russell? There's no denying she nearly died."

"My guess is she, knowing the charade was over, had a couple outlaw friends she'd entertained take her out of town and leave her. Maybe she wouldn't pay them what they wanted after they done it. I don't know. Anyway, things got out of hand. They left her for dead and covered their tracks by framing Vince and me. They sure didn't want Dillon after them."

"That's an interesting scenario, Mr. Shoemaker," Luke Henley said, beginning his cross-examination. "Can you name these outlaws? Failing that, can you describe their features or hazard a guess as to where they might be hiding? Also, don't you think the people of Dodge City would have objected to Miss Russell's name being on the sign above the Long Branch if she weren't half owner? Do you really believe it's because they fear retaliation from Matt Dillon?"

"It's ain't what I or anyone else believes. It's the simple truth. Sometimes all it takes is being confronted with the truth for men, like those on the jury, to find their courage and do what's right."

"Thank you, Mr. Shoemaker. I'm sure the document you mentioned can be produced, but since Bill Pence isn't here to testify to its authenticity, I won't hold up proceedings while your lawyer fetches it. No further questions."

The two attorneys summed up their cases. When they finished Judge Brooker, the man Matt Dillon had called the best lawyer in Kansas, instructed the jury on what they were to consider while determining guilt or innocence. Despite Vernon Shoemaker's in his opinion obvious perjury that could lead to Wiley Sherman's disbarment, he didn't draw the jurors' attention to it. He didn't want to complicate matters. The panel of 12 men must have heeded Brooker's comments because they'd barely gone upstairs to deliberate before returning a verdict of guilty on all counts.

The trial was over. Sherman wasted no time slinking out of the makeshift courtroom to his upstairs room to pack to leave on the next train. Matt and Chester escorted their prisoners back to their cell to await transport to state prison, which would be the Shoemaker brothers' home for the next 20 years. Judge Brooker saw no point in pursuing perjury charges against the brothers. He'd already considered them in determining the length of their sentence. As to their lawyer, he was certain the Kansas Bar would in due time strip Sherman of his license to practice law.

Several hours later Matt and Chester waited while the brothers ate an early supper, one final task before the two lawmen could join their friends. Finally, Chester carried the trays into the office. Matt followed, securing the heavy door between the office and cells behind him after one last appraising look. He was satisfied his prisoners were secure until Chester returned for the night. After locking the office door, the two men strolled down Front Street to the Long Branch.

Sam smiled as he carried the tray with a bottle of the saloon's finest sipping whiskey, three shot glasses and a mug of beer to the table where Kitty Russell, Matt Dillon, Doctor Adams and Chester Goode sat. He'd barely set it down when Judge Brooker and Ford County Prosecutor Luke Henley joined them. Sam started back toward the bar for two more glasses when his boss spoke.

"Sam, join us," Kitty urged. "You deserve some time off your feet."

The lively conversation was well lubricated by the drinks consumed. Chester and Sam stuck to beer, but the others emptied the initial bottle and one more. As early evening approached, Henley excused himself. His wife expected him home for supper. Brooker, claiming fatigue, left to partake of a room service supper and to write a note to let his wife know via telegram he'd be leaving for home on the morning stage. Chester, glancing around the table that now held only his closest friends, declared he too was ready to eat. Sam and Doc left with him, leaving Matt and Kitty alone.

Kitty surveyed the room. It was the quiet time between the afternoon and evening crowds. There were a few stragglers caught up in a poker game and a regular or two finishing up their beers before heading home to their wives' cooking. Goldie, she noted, was handling them easily.

"Kitty, maybe we should have supper too," Matt stated, his stomach grumbling audibly in the quiet of their corner table.

"Sounds like you're hungry, Cowboy. Don't worry, more than that stomach of yours will soon be satisfied. I arranged for a quiet supper upstairs."

"Goldie, will you handle things until Sam gets back? He shouldn't be long."

Goldie nodded and smiled as she watched the lawman and saloonkeeper climb the stairs to eat the supper that Sam had arranged to be delivered on Miss Kitty's behalf. She'd watched how attentive the marshal was to her boss during her recuperation. Goldie was pleased she was now considered trustworthy enough to keep what she suspected to herself – Miss Kitty didn't always sleep alone. Actually, it was something every citizen of Dodge City sensed about the couple, but few were trusted with concrete evidence.

"Kit," Matt said as soon as he swallowed the piece of steak in his mouth. "I've been worried about somethin'. Sam had been storing the day's take in my safe until he took it to the bank. Once I brought you home that stopped. You stand a good chance of bein' robbed and maybe hurt again. The Shoemakers and Sherman could have given your safe combination out to anyone."

"Cowboy, relax. I took care of the combination problem already. Sam showed me how. It's quite simple once you open the lock with a screwdriver. You turn a bar inside 180 degrees counterclockwise and hold it down while setting the dials inside to the new combination. When you're done you release the bar and returned it to its original position. Do you want the new combination?"

"Later," he mumbled now that one cause of worry about her safety was removed. "I've wanted to ask you something since I started home from Hays but the time didn't seem right. Will you go on a picnic with me as soon as the prison wagon comes for the Shoemaker brothers? We might even get in a bit of fishin'. Let's say a week from today if the weather's good?"

As it turned out, his duties as marshal, the ups and downs of her business and the caprice of the Kansas weather delayed the planned outing. It was late October before they laid their blanket beside the Arkansas in their private spot. Both were glad the weather was clear and unseasonably warm. Everything was perfect unless something occurred to shorten their private time.


End file.
